


Two of Hearts

by melancholici



Category: Randal's Friends (Webcomic)
Genre: Beautiful Man, Catmen, Human Pet, Incest, M/M, Merry Christmas Mortals!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21964459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholici/pseuds/melancholici
Summary: Lovely times with the Ivory family; documented.I T I N E R A R Y :1- A N I M A L  F O R E S T [8:29 PM]2- eggs and toast [??]3- sex.now.sex.now [??]4- B R O T H E R L Y ♡ L O V E [??]
Relationships: Randal Ivory/Luther Von Ivory
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Two of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> merry x-mas, mortals. ☆☆☆

**A N I M A L F O R E S T**

Today is Monday, December 32nd, of the year [REDACTED]. 

Crystallized rain encases the surrounding forest of the Ivory household. It sticks to every sprawling inch of the Earth it touches. The flakes bond together to form an impenetrable sheet of white. In the driveway, Nyen wages a bitter war against the impossible forces of Winter. He drives, with great force, a shovel into the white anti-blanket covering his Master’s driveway. This does not phase the snow. The flakes simply giggle and absorb the head of Nyen’s shovel into their freezing posse of cloud babies. Nyen stomps to the storage shed to retrieve a new, more reliable tool. While his efforts are valiant, they should be proven futile. The Ivory family does not own a car, at least not after it disappeared along with the mall parking lot whilst they were Christmas shopping. Nyen really enjoyed driving that car.

Inside, Randal is laying on a warm patch of carpet in the living room. It vibrates gently when he runs his gloved digits through its fibers. Because today does not exist, Randal has no school, and therefore he has decided to play a bit of _Animal Forest_ to pass the time. He vigorously mashes the buttons of his Gamecube controller in pursuit of a purple butterfly. Luther, who is sitting behind Randal on the couch and watching with considerable disinterest, taps the back of Randal’s shoulder with his foot.

“What is the purpose of this game?”

Randal ignores Luther’s query, face burning, as he brings his digital avatar’s bug net over the butterfly in one fell swoop. Luther inquires once more.

“What is the _purpose_ of this game?”

“To make friends.” Randal replies shortly, rather satisfied with his catch. A neon pink animal-creature approaches his avatar.

[GIVE ME YOUR PURPLE BUTTERFLY.]

[YES] [NO WAY]

“Fuck. You.” Randal selects [YES] and the greedy creature bounds away into the trees. Luther is confounded.

“Why did you do that?”

Randal sucks on his teeth. “Because I had to, or else she would move away and all the other animals would blame little old me.” He digs his fingers deep into the carpet out of agitation, causing it to yelp. He scratches deeper. “I could have gotten ssssoooooo many bellsssss…”

“Stop doing that.” Luther commands. “Calm down or else I’ll unplug the console.”

“Fine. I’m gonna get some milk then.” Randal rises up and off of the angrily vibrating carpet, mentally preparing himself for the gruesome task of walking all the way to the kitchen.

“Wait. Come back here.”

A hiss emits from Randal’s mouth as he walks backwards towards Luther’s voice. He stands with his back turned. “Eh? What is it?”

“Turn around.” Luther states. Randal spins in a full 360 degree circle.

“You’re being bad again. Face me.” Luther threatens. Randal obliges.

“Come closer.” Luther coos. Randal drags his body towards Luther’s side. “What is it, mine brother?”

“Your collar’s undone.” Luther takes a slender digit and runs it over the side of Randal’s neck. Luther’s finger stops at a scarring wound. “What is this?”

“I dunno, _something_ must have bit me last night.” Randal offers a sheepish grin.

Luther thoroughly analyses the wound. “It’s all purple and yellow, and your blood has congealed in parts. Whatever thing could have caused such damage, I wonder?” Randal opens his mouth to spitball an answer, but not quick enough before Luther cuts him off. “No matter. As your ‘♡ Caring ♡’ older brother I will take care of it.” Luther places a hand on the back of Randal’s neck and tilts it so that the wound is within “caring” distance. A large kiss is planted atop the horrible error on Randal's skin.

"It tickles."

"Well it's better than pain sometimes, isn't it?" Luther's lips part to make way for his tongue, which elegantly slides across the wound. Randal's eyes roll back a little. There truly is no greater experience than having a ♡ Caring ♡ big brother suck your wounds clean. Nyon, who had been resting peacefully in the left corner of the living room, is now conscious and nervously taking in the scene unfolding before him. He becomes red in the face as he watches his master engage in what he can only assume to be a forbidden, most sacred moment of brotherly bonding. Nyon looks away. He knows better. Yet he can still hear the smacking of damp limps on wet skin. It is only when Randal begins to hyperventilate that the licking and sucking ceases.

Luther presses a finger on Randal’s damp mouth. “You’re getting too excited now. You'll faint! Stop it.”

For a brief moment, Randal contemplates biting Luther’s finger off, whole. He decides better than that. Randal sits in the safety of his brother’s lap. Curious eyes watch as Luther does up Randal’s previously white collar, which has become stained various shades of mahogany from rubbing up against the wound.

“You should have bandaged this!” Luther cries.

“Whatever. Brother I would like my milk now.”

“Go on, go get it.”

Luther rolls his neck back to pop it. Neck-kissing always seems to give him a cramp. Randal launches himself at Luther’s exposed jugular. A mere nibble is placed upon it. He propels himself out of Luther’s lap and saunters towards the kitchen, rather sweaty and in need of calcium. Outside, Nyen makes progress in his battle against the forces of Winter. It appears that snow is most vulnerable against the cold steel of a sharpened knife.

  



End file.
